#if back then you had to play tricks to get the algorithm to work in your favor i cant imagine what it must be like for artists now ! 😭

[thedrotter]

i will place instagram on a boiling water pot what hurt it from leaving the sort by recents options for tags alone... i am bewildered by how awful instagram has grown for artists god forbid I can actually see things within the tag that im searching fo and not whatever the algorithm wants god forbid I can actually find small art account's posts easily

[thatdisasterauthor]

AI and the Bursting of the Social Media Bubble: How to Survive as a Creative

I've been wanting to put my thoughts on AI and Social Media into a more collected format, so I've written up a longer post on it on my blog on my website, and I'm sharing it here as well.

---------

Let’s face it, being a creative is becoming a rougher and rougher ride lately, especially if you’re a creative who grew up on the internet. A lot has changed in just the last year. The downfall of Twitter, the rise of AI. For awhile there we had a golden age of social media platforms that could really help us build our audience and careers, only for that all to start evaporating seemingly overnight, leaving a lot of creators stranded and disoriented. Look on any site right now and you’ll find creators terrified of losing everything to AI, creators terrified of losing their audience if their main social media presence gets shut down or banned, creators completely unsure of how to navigate the industry with half their tools taken away.

It sucks.

But, at the same time, as quick as it feels, this has been a long time coming. The social media bubble has been primed to burst for awhile now. What made social media a great tool for creators in the beginning was its authenticity. Social media was social. You found people you liked, you followed them, and you saw what they posted in the order they posted it. There were no games. No tricks. Ads that were present were less intrusive, less targeted, and less frequent. People weren’t as determined to play numbers games with who could get the most followers, the most likes, the most most most. An independent creator or small studio might sell to you, but you knew there were people behind those products. You knew there was a person who cared, who just wanted to show you the neat thing they made, not drive up their metrics or try out all those Cool Tricks they learned in a business psychology class.

Then big companies said “hey, we want a piece of that pie too,” so they started hopping on to social media as well. But it didn’t work for them, not the way it did for independent creators, because it wasn’t authentic. It was marketing. There wasn’t a person who cared behind the screen, it was some kid hired fresh out of school and handed a brand standards packet and told to make it work. They didn’t care about really connecting with people, they cared about sales and sales alone.

The big companies didn’t like that it wasn’t working for them, oh no. People should be giving them attention too!!!1! So the shift began. Ads got more targeted and more frequent. Algorithms grew in size and scope, driving people towards content they never asked for or showed any real interest in, barely showing things that people had actually followed at all. Social media stopped being social. It became marketing media and, as a consequence, small creators got buried in the deluge. Some gave up, some did their best to trundle along doing what they could, and some tried to play the game under its new rules only to have their audience still evaporate because, without a huge marketing budget, the corporate method doesn’t work at all. A few got lucky and went viral, rising to the top without having to play by the rules, but many of those struggled to maintain it and crashed back down soon after.

Then there’s the homogenization. Facebook bought Instagram. TikTok exploded in popularity, so Youtube added Shorts and Instagram added Reels. Twitter added longer and longer content options, despite being a micro blogging site. Patreon took off, so everyone started adding paid content options. Social media sites were so terrified of someone doing better than them that they all became exactly the same. Before, you had an account on every site because they each did something different. They each had their own value. But now they’re all the same, so why bother having multiple accounts if you can accomplish the same thing on each one? These companies have shot themselves in the foot by no longer offering anything unique, then got mad that they were bleeding and blamed their users even though they were the ones holding the gun.

And, of course, Twitter is over there bleeding out on the floor. Plenty of social media sites have risen and fallen over the years—Myspace, DeviantART, to name a couple—but Twitter is the first one to be so maliciously and quickly taken out with a shot to the head. Almost overnight creators have lost a major source of connection to literary agents, art directors, job boards, and just a generally vibrant network of other creators and supporters. A few contenders tried to step into the ring to replace Twitter, but all seem to have fizzled out within a few months.

Amidst the social media meltdown, a new player stomped onto the scene: Artificial Intelligence. It swept in just as quickly as the demise of Twitter and at about the same time. Within just months it went from generating strange blobby horses with too many legs to almost perfectly replicating the styles of well known artists. Which, understandably, made everyone panic. As soon as it was on the scene we saw major publishers using it to create book covers (rather than hire an artist), news sites using it to create graphics (rather than hire an artist), people using it to pump out low quality books to put on Amazon (rather than learning to write themselves), and plenty more. We learned that the data sets these AI were trained on were all stolen art and writing. We watched everyone wave off our concerns and tell us we were overreacting, that this was just the “democratization of art.” Nevermind that a computer doesn’t need to pay rent, or fill the fridge, or pay medical bills.

The AI saga is still ongoing, and likely will be for a long time yet. But this article isn’t about AI in and of itself, so we’ll leave it there.

In the latest development of the social media bubble burst, the RESTRICT act got thrown into the pile. Falsely dubbed the “TikTok Ban,” the RESTRICT act is a vastly overreaching bill that would decimate the internet as we know it. It actually doesn’t mention TikTok at all within the text of the bill, TikTok is just the Trojan horse being used to try and push the bill through. It has, however, garnered vehement disagreement from both sides of the aisle so who knows what will happen there.

That’s where we stand right now. Many social media sites are dying, AI is stealing work, and the government is trying to destroy the internet as we know it. Good times. Good times. So what the hell are us creators supposed to do? Well, there’s a few ways to go about it and a few good ways to protect yourself.

Firstly: remember that you are unique. AI is not actually intelligent, it cannot actually learn, it can just cobble together data with zero actual understanding of what that data means. Only you can come up with your characters, your stories, your designs. Even an AI trained exclusively on your work cannot create the things you will create in the future. An AI can’t know why it’s important to draw seams on clothing to give the shapes more form, it can’t know why it’s important to show not tell in a story, it can’t understand the importance of proper kerning in a logo. Do you think Good Omens (both the book and the show) would have the nuanced characterization it does if there weren’t real people with real experiences behind its creation? Your creations are yours, you learned the things you needed to to bring them to life, you cobbled together dozens of tiny, seemingly inconsequential experiences from your own life to create them, and that is why they will always have value.

Secondly: be authentic. Be excited about your own work. Be a person. Don’t just push your content and shop and sales all the time. Relax. Geek out about a fandom. Share a meme. Get in a lengthy friendly debate about ancient copper merchants. You don’t have to, and shouldn’t, overshare your personal life, but you can and should still be a person. You are not a corporation and trying to act like one, trying to keep pace with what they do, will just hinder you. Being authentic will build trust between you and your audience, and that is key to creating a stable environment. An extension of this: don’t beg. Your audience does not owe you attention. Give them a reason to care and they will, even if it takes awhile.

Thirdly: own your audience. Have your own website, even if it is a simple single page business card website to point people to other places. Make it your hub so that people—fans, art directors, agents, etc.—will be able to find you and reach out to you even if your social media sites go down. Have a newsletter that people can sign up for, and back that data up frequently. Don’t rely on any social media website to hold your following for you, because it can vanish overnight and suddenly you’ll be back at square one. But a CSV of emails backed up onto a couple of hard drives? That’s YOURS. Substack died? Oh well, you backed up the CSV a couple days ago and now you can just upload it to a different newsletter platform and pick up right where you left off.

Fourthly: figure out what kind of creative you want to be. Yeah, some work is going to be lost to AI. Yeah, you’re going to miss out on some jobs because you can’t chat with art directors on Twitter anymore. But there will always be work out there for creatives, even if it is different than you used to imagine. Maybe you won’t be able to get into concept art with a huge gaming company the way you dreamed, but that doesn’t mean you can’t find a great indie studio to work with. Maybe you won’t be able to get a traditional publishing deal because you don’t like their values anymore, but that doesn’t mean you can’t run a great self-publishing campaign on Kickstarter.

Fifthly: support other creators. Share their work. Point art directors their way if you don’t have time for a particular job. Introduce them to your own audience. Boost their commission info posts. Build your network.

Lastly, ask yourself this: are you going to stop consuming content from your favorite creators just because AI exists? Just because Twitter died? Are you going to shelve all your favorite books because AI is out there? Stop looking at art that isn’t made by an AI? No. You’re not. You’re going to keep consuming the things you love, and so will everyone else. Maybe not in the same ways, maybe not in the same amounts, but they will.

One final note: do you know what happened when photography started to become widely available and affordable? Illustrators panicked. If newspapers could just snap a quick photo of the latest news, they wouldn’t need to hire illustrators. If catalogues could photograph their products, they wouldn’t need to hire illustrators. It was a huge shift in the entire industry, and illustrators did lose work. But you know what? A century later, we’re still here. We still have value. We still get work. We still create amazing things that can’t be done any other way. Our ancestors have weathered this storm before, and we will weather it this time, even if we get a little banged up in the process.

If you enjoyed this content, tips are very much appreciated! (But 100% not required!)

[tutantmeenageneetleteetle]

What are each of the turtles' (and mayhaps some other characters like April and Casey if you're cool with that 👀) favorite social medias?

Favorite social media

Hello friend, thanks for the request! I feel like social media is a big part of the turtles lives, mostly because it's so hard for them to meet new people organically.

Leo

1. Tumblr. This guy is spending most of his time looking for Space Heroes headcanons and you can't convince me otherwise. He definitely has a Space Heroes blog himself

2. Instagram. He loves to see what people are up to.

3. Tiktok. He actually liked it so much, he decided to delete it to boost his productivity, because he ended up doomscrolling.

Raph

1. Twitter. He secretly enjoys celebrity drama, even if he will never admit it

2.Snapchat. Has some of Caseys friends on here too, the main way he communicates with people. He forced all of his brothers to get Snapchat too, reacts faster on their snaps then texts.

3. Instagram. Mostly looks at memes on here.

Donnie

1. Youtube. He loves putting it on while he's working on an invention, or watches tutorials on how to build or code things.

2. Reddit. He's a very curious guy.

3. Tiktok. The algorithm is really good, so he gets a lot of science related videos

Mikey

1. Tiktok. Dopamine addict.

2. Twitch. Loves watching people play horror games, because he could never play them himself.

3. Instagram. Mostly because everyone else uses it, and this is the only way he can send Leo and Raph memes, because Raph rarely and Leo never uses tiktok anymore.

April

1. Instagram. That's the main platform everyone she knows uses anyway, and she loves to stalk people she knew from highschool.

2. Pinterest. Outfit inspo, study motivation, all the good stuff

3. Facebook. That's how she keeps in touch with friends from elementary and her family.

Casey

1. Tiktok. He has a hockey/rollerskating account where he does cool tricks and jumps

2. Snapchat. Snaps his friends and his hockey team has a snapgroup.

3. Instagram. Everyone from highschool had it, so he sort of got stuck on it.

Splinter

1. Youtube. Very rarely watches something on here. Mostly he believes that social media is full of unnecessary distractions.

2. Facebook. He knows Facebook exists, that's about as good as it's going to get.

3. Yea, that's literally it. He barely knows how to use a smartphone. Back in the day, he just had a flipphone, so that he could call and be called, but that's about all he does with his new phone too.

[tinkertechy]

The Ice World Fatigue Point

AKA I'm rambling about game design this time. Have fun.

So I was playing a little game called Bear and Breakfast-You play a bear called Hank who decides to open up a BnB and bring people back to the forest because... he likes people. Fun little game, had a few kinks last I played it, might revisit it in the future. While playing, though, I noticed I hit a frustration/fatigue point in the 'ice' level, about 2/3rds of the way through the game. The normal gameplay loop was starting to wear thin, and the new mechanic added wasn't quite enough to bolster the area until you reach the last zone. A jump in difficulty and some rough pacing in the main plot didn't help matters.

Then I realized I had felt this before. I call it the Ice World Fatigue Point.

Consider that most modern video games draw a basic design philosophy from the Super Mario series; the standard environment progression. (Also known as the Sorting Algorithm of Threatening Geography) World/level 1 is always Green Hills, Oceans is usually 3/4, and so on, with Fire/Death being the last zone. The Ice realm typically falls at the 2/3ds point in this progression. Even if it's not a conscious choice, it happens far too much to be coincidence.

The 2/3rds point is also the point in the game where the gameplay loop up to this point starts to feel thin or tame; The player has mastered it and won't feel challenged by it unless something changes. Alternatively, the plot has reached a 'slow' point between the dramatic revalations and the 'dark night/point of no return'. A new mechanic or design trick needs to be added to incentivize the player to keep going until they reach the last zone.

When these two elements mix, you get Ice World Fatigue. It's not a hard and standard rule that the Ice World is the fatigue point; it just happens to be most common for that point to be where fatigue sets in. Usually a new mechanic is introduced here to try and kickstart gameplay, but it usually means sliding around pathetically until you reach the end of the level or trying to fight off freezing to death.

I'm gonna list out some games below and the point in the game where you hit 'fatigue' because you're ready to get to the final fight, but the game won't stop dragging on. See if you agree with me!

Kingdom Hearts III: Frozen World (Not helped by the drastic re-writes.)

FFXIV: Levels 35-40 (Coerthas-It can drag on when you just want to get the ship and leave already.)

FFXV: Garlemald Nifleheim outskirts. Not a lot happens here and the railroading (ha) really kicks in.

Bear and Breakfast: The Ice Chateau (Where I first noticed this trend)

Any Pokemon Game: if there's a Ice gym, it's always the 6th/7th gym.

Xenoblade Chronicles: The Arm. There's no point for that part of the story to exist, it's just filler to get to the rest of the plot.

The Legend of Zelda; Multiple games pull this, although Twilight Princess and Ocarina of Time are most notable.

Luigi's Mansion; Dark Moon: The 4th out of 5 mansions is the Ice Cheateau.

Really, Most Mario Games, due to Nintendo sticking with What Works.

I originally had a longer list, but I can't seem to find my notes. Feel free to reply with your own games!

[i-eat-worlds]

trick or treat!

have a little whumpee being held for ransom! With a touch of protective caretaker, a little medical whump, and a distraught whumpee.

cw: violence, creepy/threatening dialogue, angst?, medical whump, depictions of injuries

Caretaker stood in front of the old van, watching the metaphorical tumbleweeds roll across the empty parking lot. The July sun beat down on the team as they waited in the vacant lot. Leader checked their watch for the seventh time in the past hour, then threw a glance backwards at the van. Nothing had moved. Nothing had changed. Whumper was still late.

Just as leader was about to say that Whumper was just playing games and call it quits, a rough-looking U-haul turned into the parking lot. It bounced over the pothole marred pavement before screeching to a stop, the breaks tired. Whumper climbed down from the passenger side seat, a coy grin playing on their face. “You’re late.” Leader growled.

Whumper seemed unbothered by the remark, and by the chorus of scowls that caretaker’s team was giving them. “You have it?” They said, crossing their arms. “Show us Whumpee first.” Caretaker’s nostrils ared at Whumper’s behavior. “No Whumpee, no deal.” Whumper rolled his eyes. “Henchman, get Whumpee from the back,” they ordered. The henchman cut the truck's engine and hopped out of the driver's seat. Caretaker figeted nervously as Henchman walked around the back of the truck, pushed open the door, and dragged Whumpee around the other side. Their hands were bound behind their back, a gag tied tightly around their head, muffling their attempts to scream as Henchman dragged them to Whumper. A thin shirt, tinted red, hung off their skinny form, and Caretaker didn’t want to know what was under it. They squirmed and fought in Henchman's hands, trying to break free, tripping over their own feet. The futile escape attempt suddenly came to a stop when they laid their eyes on Caretaker and the rest of their team standing in front of the van. Whumpee tried to call out to them, but all that came out was garbled nonsense. “Such a pretty thing, it’s a shame to have to let them go.” Whumper said as Henchman dumped them on the ground. Whumppe curled up into a ball, whimpering as Whumper loomed over them. “Aww, look at you, already shaking in your boots.” Whumper cooed before their voice turned at. “Do you have the drive?” Leader pulled the thin flash drive that was suspended from a chain off their neck. It sparkled alluringly in the sun. Whumper pulled Whumpee up by the collar of their shirt, pulling them in close, then placing an arm around their neck. “That drive…” Whumper whispered into their ear, “…has your life’s work on it. The algorithm, it’s rightfully mine, once again.” Whumpee’s eyes went wide with fear. They tried to shake their head no, but Whumper’s arm wouldn’t let them. “Stop playing games, Whumper.” Leader commanded. They dangled the drive in front of him. “On the count of three?”

“On the count of three.” Whumper agreed. Whumpee was still trying to ght against Whumper’s grasp. “One…Two…Three.” They counted down together.

Leader pitched the drive into the air as Whumper roughly shoved Whumpee forward. Surprised by the jolt, they stumbled a few steps before running headlong into the ground, then rolling over the hot pavement, struggling to stand without the use of their hands. Whumper hadn’t managed to catch the drive, and the silver stick sat tantalizingly out of reach. Whumpee tried to inch towards it regardless, but Whumper got to it first. “Uh-Uh-Uh.” They chided, picking up the stick and dangling it in front of their face. “You poor, pathetic thing.” They delivered one last kick in the ribs to their downed captive before taking their prize and climbing back into the now running truck. The U-haul bounced out of the parking lot as Whumpee’s team swarmed around them.

Caretaker knelt down over Whumpee’s furled up form, shading them from the sun. “Medic!” They called as they removed the gag from Whumpee’s mouth. “I need to see if they’re good to move.” Tears dripped from whumpee’s eyes as Medic approached. “How could you!” They accused, rolling on their side to try and get the weight o their bound hands. “Everything was on the drive! How could you just give it up!” Whumpee was inconsolable. “Hey, Whumpee…” Medic said softly, only to be interrupted, by Whumpee’s wails.

“How could you!” They screeched, “How could you! That was everything!” “No it wasn’t.” Caretaker said simply. It was enough to stop whumpee’s thrashing and screaming.

“What do you mean?” Whumpee asked. They’d calmed, though their tone was still smoldering.

“The drive is a fake. The only thing on it is a virus that will let us track Whumper’s computer usage. That’s it.” Caretaker said.

The reveal caused the bravado to drain from Whumpee, and they started to cry for an entirely different reason. “I’m sorry.” They choked out. “I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, it’s okay, you didn’t know.” Caretaker comforted as they stroked Whumpee’s hair. “Medic’s gonna take a look at you, alright.” Whumpee nodded, their tears starting to dry up. Caretaker nodded, telling Medic it was okay to begin. “Okay, Whumpee, I’m going to cut your hands free,” Medic said. Whumpee inched in preparation as Medic cut the zip ties. Medic tossed the ties to the side, noticing the bright red indentations snaking around Whumpee’s wrists. They slowly set whumpee back down on their back, now able to lie comfortably without crushing their hands. “I’m going to take a look at you now, yeah. Tell me if anything hurts.” Medic slowly eased Whumpee’s shirt up. The picture was not pretty. Deep slices cut across their chest and abdomen, skin thick with bruising and crusted with dried blood. It was bad. Real bad. “Can you get me the gauze from my kit?” Medic looked to Caretaker as they withdrew their trauma shears from their pocket and started cutting Whumpee’s shirt off. They whimpered at the sight of the scissors, inching as Medic slowly removed their shirt. “I know, I know. We’ll get you home soon.” Caretaker said as they rummaged through Medic’s bag and pulled out several packs of gauze. They tossed the packages over to Medic, who quickly got to work staunching the bleeding. Every time they went to bandage a wound, they ended up aggravating the thick coat of bruises Whumpee wore. “Please…nhmmm…please. It hurts…please.” Whumpee begged, “Please…stop…please …please.” Caretaker gently carded their hand through Whumpee’s hair, whispering encouraging words. They ran their hand down their cheek. Whunpee’s skin was cold and clammy.

“Medic,” Caretaker said worriedly, “I think they’re going into shock.” Medic cursed under their breath, their eyes betraying their worry. Internal bleeding. “Teammate, go get me the stretcher from the van, and alert the infirmary to prepare an operating room and as much blood as they can muster.” They ran off in the direction of the van. “I’m going to start an IV, and then we’ll get them out of here.” Medic unzipped their bag, hands working in practiced motions as they selected the correctly sized cannula.

As whumpee’s eyelids grew heavy, they searched for Caretaker’s face. “It’s bad, isn’t it?” They mumbled, barely audible. Caretaker squeezed Whumpee’s hand desperately. “I’m not gonna let you die, Whumpee, I promise. I’m not gonna let you die.”

[tabinationtabbystar]

So I see how this is gonna pan out bogas azz programs and charges for what really I never casted the first stone I'm a glass house Carl son and I truly thought you had my back in my community your a college student and writing a story also I'm my own athur Hun narrate all u want for I Tabatha Ann Tuszynski is the women God and Jesus has remembered and when the hell are you able to tie in my children missing school if the passed I shouldn't have warrants I'm getting the charges all of them thrown out! I can't believe you literally used the legal system on me and my story wtf is wrong was he not wanting anyone around but lil girls my app is working at talky and linksy so double dare the state to fck with it you would literally throw us in scummy apartments living with murderers petifiles and drug dealers knowing I have two fckn daughters whom reside with me in this shitty atmosphere cause you want my money so it's ok to hit me with Hochuls plan don't think so how'd you feel to be ripped away from your family's algorithm or not feel wanted or loved and failure to exercise control over a minor who you I assume 1024 yeah I'm not harassing, but I'm expressing how easy it is for a young police student to sexually be manipulated aswell and I never ridiculed or said anything bad about your Charles in charge girlfriend get out fantasy world playing with my life is like playing a nasty trick on God so bring it sister. #JPD #MHA #Fakeloyalty #Theives #spotlight #domesticviolence #diversity #sexualassult

[undeadorion]

We desperately need to go back to sites having some sort of barrier to entry. It doesn't have to be major, more like an unlocked door.

DeviantArt and other similar sites had this. There was no algorithm, just what was popular and what you searched for and who you followed. You had to find ways to promote yourself, get active in the community, comment on other people's work. And you had to make things people actually wanted to click on.

Even YouTube still has some of this. Their search sucks, and they have an algorithm, but you still have to entice people to click on your video somehow.

But places like TikTok are just a firehose of nonsense. Your stuff gets put in front of people, already playing. No click necessary. They have to take an action to not watch it once they're there. Things can wildly take off with zero effort.

Bring back the requirement of interacting with people. Where comments actually matter and aren't just a mindless engagement metric that you need to trick people into doing with telling them what to comment just to make number go up.

[coffeeshub]

Saw this and couldn't help it. Would prefer if you watch it when the reader does in the story! Thank you and enjoy!!

Here's a Sebastian Stan x Reader inspired by the above real. It's the reader's (Rhea, here. Sorry!?) first ever movie WITH Sebastian Stan, luckily(😮‍💨). I've scratched my head over this for one hour so it shouldn't be THAT bad. You are warned.

Warnings - Swearing and Sebastian Stan

((ughhh he's so fine I can't)

I absentmindedly scrolled through the explore page on my personal account. A few months ago, I wouldn't have done that while working on set with everyone around me. Why would I? The last thing I needed was anyone catching me with a explore page full of my co-star.

Now, don't get me wrong. That was before I got cast with him, on my very first gig, and we became friends for real. So naturally, I had to stop fangirling over him. Even though actually working with him did not help with that in the slightest.

I had tried to trick my algorithm into thinking I hated him. I disliked ALL the Sebastian Stan posts I had liked— and I'm not exaggerating when I say it took hours— and liked every non-Sebastian thing I could find. It did the trick, kind of. After a good 3 months, Instagram forgot that I was (am?) a Sebastian Stan obsess.

And yet there were a few times some reels dropped by, like now. I usually ignore them or scroll past, but this one caught my eye. The cover said 'Sexy Sebass' with Sebastian in a interview in the background. I couldn't help myself. I clicked on it and the real started playing with no sound and captions.

...

I burst out laughing. Literally. I knew Sebastian got embarrassed and hence annoyed at being called any variation of 'hot' or 'sexy'. I couldn't have imagined him saying that with such a straight face without having already unalived the person.

"What's so funny?" A voice whispered in my ear. I got as startled I could in my laughter haze, instinctively trying to back away from him. I'd already realised halfway that it was just Sebastian messing with me, but I felt a hand around my waist, pulling me back, closer to him where he could see my phone and what made me laugh so hard.

"Oyyy what?" I croak out, still laughing.

"So, what's so funny?" I only half registered the consequences as I extended my phone towards him, the reel being replayed on it trying to hold back my laugh.

As soon as he realized what it was about, I see half annoyance half amusement pass his face. He turned to me, his hand somehow still rested around my waist. "What the fuck do you watch in your free time?" He had a cute smile on, red in the face, trying to hide his embarrassed face.

I was so close to him, I could see the dimples forming on his cheeks, the way his face scrunched up slightly, the slight red across his face and couldn't stop the giggle. Given the laughter attack I was in just twenty seconds ago, I wouldn't say I was surprised as I dissolved into laughter again, but this time his arms around me, holding me upright.

"Shut up." I heard Sebastian mutter slowly, which didn't help except I laughed harder.

"Se-sexy Sexy Sebass?" I managed to grind out.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Sure you don't."

"Shut up, Ray."

"Now, vanilla ice, that's not a very nice thing to say to someone." God, I should stop laughing.

He groaned, throwing his head back in frustration, subconsciously pulling me closer.

I faltered. Too less air, I knew shooting at higher altitudes was a bad idea. Sebastian recollected himself and looked back at me. His eyes gleeming with something I had never seen with him before.

Closer than ever. Too close.

That stopped my laughing.

We were almost touching everywhere, with his one hand still on my waist, that had gotten higher, and mine awkwardly fitted between us, because the only other spot was his chest.

A small smug smile tugged on his face, eyes flickered with mischief and something else, and holy shit, I tried not to melt on the spot.

"Should I be worried about the fact that you were watching reels from a Sebastian Stan fanpage?"

Fuck.

Dumbfuck.

Dumbfuckingfuck.

D—

"Sebastian, Rhea, it's the next shot! Are you guys ready? "

Talk about saviours. I love you Mack.

"I– uh we should go. I've– uh– I gotta get ready."

I not-so-gratefully pulled myself away from him and rushed towards Mahia, my makeup artist, almost sure that my cheeks were burning red.

[diamondshapedcat]

Dehumanization. That's what it was. That's what it is. All I wanted was a place at the table, a level playing field. The opportunity to work among everyone else in the world.

That's what they told me in school. They said that I should think about what job I wanted when I was older. That there was so many options out there. So I picked one and started to learn how to fix cars. And they set me up to fail, probably thinking that this autistic person was just being silly for wanting to work. 'Awww he thinks he's people' 'Let the little guy pretend he's smart' All said behind my back of course but looking back I can tell they were thinking it. After 3 years of learning and unsuccessful applications I found out why I wasn't getting anywhere. In addition to the qualifications I needed hands on experience as well. Everyone else was working part time in a garage and never told me. I spent 3 years on a worthless degree because I never got the practical time to go with it.

But I foolishly didn't give up, I kept trying to make it work and be more flexible. I felt that I had to prove that I could do it and make something for myself. I learnt and listened to every bit of advice I could about interview skills and job hunting stuff. I picked up new skills, did the song and dance routine again and again.

But they were only interested in what I didn't have. A neurotypical brain. The world said you have to work, you have to get a job but that assumed that you were neurotypical. I kept going and going, listing to their false reassurances and lies that I would get it next time and I just need to try a little bit harder. Despite everything I kept going despite my mental health spiraling downwards into the toilet and suffering from depression. I dug my nails into the false hope that I would get it next time. I based my self worth on getting a job and that blinded me to every horrible ugly truth about this world. I felt like I had to get a job because I wanted to be able to look after myself without having to worry about anything. It was my world and I made it my sole reason for existing.

In 2021 I finally had enough and told my job advisor at the time to pull his finger out of his arse, stop bullshitting me and get me a job. Of course realising that I had seen through the lies he let me go.

That was a good day and even now it brings me a smile.

That was the day the pain stopped. The day I walked away. The day I regained my humanity. When the healing started.

For a while I kept applying for jobs on my own. trying out whatever tricks I could think of. Over the 15 or so years I lost, I notice that as time went on I met less with people and more with automated applications. It got worse, in other words. Another barrier put up to stop me. I struggled with people who didn't care and algorithms that couldn't care. If by some miracle I managed to get to a person, they would figure out I was autistic within 5 minutes and another day would be wasted.

The biggest thing I learned was that no was the only answer I would get. Again and again no matter what I did, I was told I was worthless. Come back where you are human. And I believed it. What I should have learned was that I should have told them to fuck off and not give a shit about their rigged game but that just made me try harder to prove myself. If my best wasn't considered human that what was I? Did I not have worth? Did the world see me as nothing more than a problem that no one wanted to deal with?

Dehumanization.

So that brings me to today. Free from the pain and discrimination but with too much time and nothing to do. I forgot how to be human and I'm relearning my self worth. Not to value myself entirely on my employment status.

I know that one day I am going to forced back into that hell, and I won't survive. I will be broken down again and again to the point so that when I finally throw myself off a bridge I won't feel anything when I hit the ground because I will already be dead inside.

For now I'm just going to try and enjoy life while I can.

[douchebagbrainwaves]

I'VE BEEN PONDERING MANAGERS

Your early twenties are exactly the time to take insane career risks. That's the sense in which startups pay better on average, because there is more room for spikes. If the smaller investments are on convertible notes, and convertible notes have not valuations but at most valuation caps: caps on what the characters said and did the subtler clues, the better. Unless you're experienced enough at fundraising to have a remedial character. These are some of the biggest remaining obstacles is pride. And the best paying jobs are most dangerous, because they get their pick of all the startups. In most, corruption still has the upper hand. They have an answer, certainly, but odds are it's wrong. Like chess or painting or writing novels, making money is a very specialized skill. Maybe successful hedge fund managers are mean; I don't know why I avoided trying the statistical approach.1

It is just as true today, though few of us create wealth directly for ourselves except for a few specialists like thieves and speculators something you have to try very hard to make themselves rich. This question makes founders feel they should be planning to raise. For the average user, all the online stores were built by hand, by web designers making individual HTML pages. Be nice. I'll talk about tricks for coming up with startup ideas on demand. They all say they love you, but they need you to come in for one meeting to meet some of the biggest remaining obstacles is pride.2 But Balzac lived in nineteenth-century France, where the Industrial Revolution was well advanced. Thanks to Jessica Livingston and Chris Steiner for reading drafts of this. That's an interesting idea.

What counts as a substantial offer depends on who it's from and how much it is. They may also make the biggest investment. 96. I have to admit it's one of those rare people who have x-ray vision for character. It may seem unlikely in principle that one individual could really generate so much more distracting that I had to add a new application to my list of known time sinks: Firefox. You can probably start a startup and make them buy it to get you? Tv are a good example of close friends who work for big companies. It's inconvenient to do something. So perhaps one reason schools work badly is that they're too much influenced by recipes for wisdom have an element of subjection. Yesterday one of the reasons they did was that it used a TV for a monitor, which seemed intolerably déclassé to a high-school kid. A fundraising, and decide they should raise money too, since that seems to be growing. They say that they didn't have the people yelling insults out of cars.

Maybe successful hedge fund managers are mean; I don't know enough to say. How much were you planning to spend? At YC we're excited when we meet startups working on things that could be taught better by itself. A greedy algorithm takes the best of the options in front of a computer that could only ever have appealed to Harvard students, it would be to make the headers look innocent, but my guess is that it lets you jump over obstacles.3 The big change that experience causes in your brain. Meet such investors last if at all. Better to let the wrong idea become the top one, rather than their words. This was easier to grasp when most people lived on farms, and made many of the things the internet has shown us is how mean people can be. The unsexy filter, because the advice I've given is essentially how to play hardball back. It's oddly nondeterministic. An early stage startup.4

Notes

This includes mere conventions, like a headset or router. If they want you to believing anything in particular made for other kinds of work into a de facto chosen by human editors. But I think this is so valuable that visitors should gladly register to read this to realize that species weren't, because even being deliberately misleading by focusing so much from day to day indeed, is this someone you want to save money, the light bulb, the higher the walls become. I'm not saying, incidentally, that suits took over during a critical period.

Economically, the space of careers does.

This just seems to be a niche. This is the proper test of success. In a typical fund, half the companies that tried to pay the bills so you could try telling him it's XML.

More precisely, the top and get data via the Internet, and in a time machine, how can I make the police treat people more equitably.

Thanks to Geoff Ralston, Garry Tan, Alexis Ohanian, Patrick Collison, Jessica Livingston, and Fred Wilson for sparking my interest in this topic.

[dreamsandroots]

The View from Down Under

The rarest treasures are often the ones hardest to decipher: that which operates only within the interior of the epistemè, obscured from outsiders. A secret path back home. An anachronous story which changes with the teller’s inflections, their changing dispositions. If there’s one thing the West excelled at (at least since the onset of market libertarianism) it was making its own story accessible. Perhaps accessible is not quite the right word here. Unavoidable might serve more aptly. 24/7 availability, the dream that never sleeps. Excitement in your face, your eyes bleeding, a narrative of Capital Realism that engulfs the horizon. What can you even say about a story that’s so catchy it sticks in your head even as it strangles you? Its jingles and theme tunes ringing in your cells, snaking through your interior circuits? The lens changes: what you see when your eyes become free from the joy of hunger, defined only by the absences of what you can and cannot take. Apocalypse is only a secret whose articulation would certify the ego’s erasure. Scare it into a bullet. The original trick. Fascism’s pull works best behind a pretty face. Gather enough pretty faces, arrange them to cover over your dark corners, and you can divert attention from any atrocity, any factory polluting as it builds its landfill or its bombs. The beautiful ones, the lucky ones. Soon you’ll be made to feel crazy, a paranoid fool, for pointing at anything beneath the surface. The beautiful face becomes the arena within which the ongoing dialectic of division plays indefinitely. A white face, an androgynous face, a coloured face, a trans face, all of them beautiful faces pointing towards the edges of a misplaced sense of self-righteous anger that is tied to our sense of belonging from one moment to the next, and the distinct sense that the battlegrounds of identity have been constructed to keep us looking out to our other in envy. How might we place ourselves in the centre of gravity once again? Don’t they realise how much we have struggled too? The algorithm’s inner logic: a magical formula that predicts and predicates profits on the margins of social dissolution.

But perhaps we’re getting ahead of ourselves here a little. Let’s step back for a moment and think about the dream we had, the one which confuses the hell out of us every time we think on it: not necessarily in a way that leaves us frustrated or exacerbated on the knife’s edge of reason, but rather in the same way that we might imagine it to be pleasing for the plant to think of the different routes it might travel of a day in order to best drink up the sun’s energy. This must be what they mean by ‘quanta’, the superposition of that which is unable to be measured. Nothing in its box. Fixed categories, the static noise of holy conception, trickling and clicking in susurrations and blips through the skin. To stay indefinitely in this gelatinous state of mass, though impossible, must at times seem tempting. To lay snug in our beds comfortably, our needs, our hungers fed intravenously, or via some hare-brained rendition of the digital cloud, must seem something close to a post-lapsarian, pre-eminent paradise. Cycles beget cycles, our bodies growing towards the sun, the moon and various other heavenly bodies, cell by cell. Forget the false binary of dead-cat-living, we are all of us swarms of creatures, balancing tentatively, the species of the brain aware only through a kind of mass-extrapolatory intuition of those in the belly, the mouth, the lungs, the throat, your fingers, the soles of your feet. If only we didn’t have to go to work on Monday, or the day after that. But, I guess every Matrix comes with its own built-in Neo. The ego’s storm clouds. An interior gut punch, a vortex in the pit of your belly. Why can’t we dream forever?

As you walk the dusty streets you realise yourself as the inconsolable deficit. You are white skinned like it’s some kind of blessing. You wear trousers like a man does. You stand up at the urinal to pee, it’s true. Ugly stubble prickles the skin on your face. The chemicals raging in your body, along with the 10y gap in any sense of physical intimacy with another person, have you falling into the embarrassing slobbery drawl of the gaze, staring at what you believe to be the solution to your shortfall: slender, smooth-skinned, expensive clothes, perfect hair, an alluring scent, the ultimate in sublimation, and you have to alleviate yourself from the male fantasy that these angelic beings emerged from heaven’s egg perfectly constructed as if by the hand of God Themself, and that you’re some kind of Odysseus, strapped to the mast of his own ship, navigating through the sublime waters of the sirens. You’re reminded, too, of the cultural boneyard that is Sydney/Gadigal, its highways superimposed on top of sacred spaces, travelling grounds for the one remaining world culture that can provide evidence of continuous cultural practices that date back (according to Neale & Kelly) for at least tens of thousands of years. It’s only in recognition that our problems are skin deep in comparison, the realisation that to approach the problem with the requisite curiosity and open-heartedness of the dreamer, rather than the knower, means also to leave behind the tools you have collected to make sense of the world.

I’m a settler, but aren’t we all? According to various socio-political models which attempt to make sense of, and demystify the automated rollout of self-replicating power structures, what seems most urgent is to develop a sense of class-consciousness, a sense of unification that can come only with the recognition of our shared agency, to halt the ongoing hegemony of market freefall. To examine the relationship of ‘Western’ models of learning and the culturally diverse and variegated systems of knowledge evident in First Nations people throughout the world, feels analogous to the image of a man, dying of thirst who, when approaching the river, thinks immediately that the water is his by right. The cultural work of today is an ongoing labour of building bridges and reforesting places drained of life-force. To recognise our common despairs, but also to find a way to share the joys. Australia’s last hope for cultural identity is to recognise its ongoing systems of oppression, to understand what colonises all of us, to see the pollution of domination, control, fixation, for the mental pollution that it is. If I can approach this task with honesty, sincerity patience and understanding, then maybe one day I’ll be able to say, in sincerity, that I have done the work of an Australian, and I will call it my home.

[hewholivesinhisname]

Zerubabbel: father of Jesus

So, we have absolutely no way of knowing how far back the Bible actually happened. The freemasons larped the whole event for instance. There were 71 candidates running around claiming to be Jesus then and every time someone claims to be god or a god there is a bajillion copycats. There is usually SOMEONE in charge of one thing or another of course, but there it's also the case that there's always more people than you think involved. So, polytheism is basically correct although it would be more correct to say that people fighting tooth and nail all over the place to be the one true god while there are bajillions of others lying around is best.

One thing we do know from the Book of Esdras though is that Zerubabbel was the father of Jesus. Zerubabbel was a favorite of the Jewish God and he helped rebuild the 2nd Temple. We know that the witches predate the Jewish god btw because they have the rule of three. This is a prescriptive rule by the way. when they organize things, they plan things in 3. I'm not saying it always happens that way, but if you read the book of shadows you get the sense that "the horned god" and the goddess both predate Judaism and Christianity.

So, Christianity was created and Judaism was created. I don't know exactly by who. I assume that in the Canaanite pantheon there was something of a power struggle and it was El, the father of the gods who won the battle. There is some split between him and the pharaonic deities as well although I don't know what that was about.

Probably in Egypt or during the pyramid builders times, they had a holy book with six days a week and five working days and they had a bunch of slaves and they needed a new holy book and a new god to control the slaves. "We were once slaves in egypt stuff" is kind of belied by the fact that we have pyramids on the dollar bill. We are still slaves in Egypt. I am not getting paid to write this nor go to school and they do everything to drive down wages they can.

It's not clear what really happened to Jesus either. Some say that he never returned and the rabbi's claim they resurrected him and he said he was boiling in hot shit in hell. In other words, he might have been set up from the very beginning as a sacrifice. The story of Jesus' life very much parallels the Jewish rite of sacrificing 2 goats to the gods. Azazel and El.

So, in all probability the "father" that Jesus was talking about is Zerubabbel, but there's also a conflation with the Jewish god which means the guy had two masters and maybe a third because we are now introduced to the holy spirit which is extremely mysterious. Does it have something to do with wifi or 5G technology? I don't know to be honest.

The Jews were in Rome by the time of the Romans, Senators were forbidden to go to Egypt which means maybe a few went, but it's clear that the real power was still in Egypt which is the connection between Jerusalem and Rome. Since they erase history periodically they can play these tricks over and over and over again and no one learns anything. That's the only conclusion you can come to after examining the holy books.

What is a god? I don't know, but there's always lots of people who want to be gods. Probably it has something to do with controlling the money supply. People do things for money, not for gods in general and the lords hate this. They try to make sure the stores are filled with poisons to punish slaves with money. You can see it if you pay attention.

So, I do think these people are real of course, but if you look closer you really see that it wasn't created for humanity's benefit or anything. It was created to create the basic algorithm of "Obey or be tortured" that was what the romans were up to and as soon as you get Jesus showing up it becomes "obey or be tortured for eternity" for mormonism to this day they retain this penchant for torture. It never left.

So, all of this is to say that Zerubabbel is a much more important figure than most people give him credit for. The western christians erased him because they didn't want it to be a Jew who was the father of Jesus.

The reason Jesus was sent is important though which is that they wanted to get rid of all these gods and goddesses of Greece and Rome. they wanted to retain the monotheism even if they couldn't really do it with one person. Why is it so important there is only one god? Well, I don't know to be honest.

The Mormon god clearly lives in Kolob in universe 138,, this is universe 137 and maybe Zerubabbel or Jesus or Melchizidek is in charge of all the humans here.

Melchizidek is also an important figure because he clearly works with the witches to create. The witches predate the male gods and are intricately tied to well....a lot of things. (go girl power!) In particular, I think secrets and such are the kind of thing that women are really good at, especially if they enjoy cuckolding their husbands like Mary did with Zerubabbel or El....maybe both.

I can assure you the religious of course are going to get upset that these are real people who aren't totally perfect or that these stories are political techniques used by the masons to control people. they have been at it a long time. There's the America narrative, the Rome narrative, a sort of algorithm or program to try to control all of reality in the name of, well, control freaks.

I remember reading 1984 and being really disturbed and I realized that these guys at the top really are into being these dark lord types. These immortals act a lot more like Sith lords than they do Jedi. So, good luck surviving because there is a lot of predation, both by the poor and the rich out there.

Reality creation probably happens mostly at the bottom, there may be gods that can communicate with whatever predates matter of course but generally just as men cannot produce babies, lords and masters cannot produce wealth. Only the people can do that. They can build big projects of course, but then, when we have them like the pyramids they let them go empty rather than sharing them because sharing with commoners is not in their nature.

They will share their little manual for slavery with you though because it produces so many good slaves which is what they want. Front to back, that's what it reads like to me, but in addition there's stuff to increase suffering because....well I dunno they probably are into bdsm and enjoy making us suffer.

[thesquareinthecircularhole]

hey stupid, i love you [MCYT: Dream x GN!Reader]

song: hey stupid I love you by jp saxe

warnings: fluff

im pretty sure i made this an gender neutral as possible but if there is an error lmk thanks bby :*

im in a simpin mood bby

as always, song lyrics in italics

i skipped a couple versus due to repetitiveness oops

this is the one i complained about losing, but it actually worked out bc i like this one better...less wordy

word count: ~2k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nothing's wrong, and it's not what I'm used to Oh, does it surprise you too? When it's simple, is it easier than it should be?

"Hey babe, are you okay? You've been quiet today," Dream practically pouted as he asked you. He loved the sound of your voice and while you definitely weren't giving him the quiet treatment, you sure weren't as talkative as you normally are.

"Yeah, I'm good. Just distracted thinking my thoughts." You smiled at him and leaned against him. He looked down at you and pecked your lips. You gave him a sweet kiss back. The smile he gave you made your heart boom. Loving him was as easy as eating a cake (because the usually analogy 'baking a cake' isn't true, its sometimes hard to bake a cake, especially when a hungry streamer keeps trying to eat the batter or start a flour fight).

"Anyway, don't you have a stream with the Dream Team to get ready for? One that starts in," you look at the clock on your phone, "three minutes ago?" The slight panic that crosses Dream's face makes you laugh loud. He gives you another kiss and in less than five seconds has practically launched himself across the house into his recording room. Your laughter follows him the whole way, a smile and blush upon his face.

Nothing's wrong, but when you're not in my arms I send voice notes, you send hearts And get quiet, and I know that means you miss me

Okay, granted, you were the one to remind him that he was streaming with his friends today and speedrunning, but you didn't expect it to last well over five hours. At the beginning you worked on your classwork for your [college degree of choice]. You got it done quickly, as it was nearing the end of the semester and most professors of yours were laidback and wanted you to study more than write nonsense papers (fictional you, i'm so jealous). Occasionally you would jump in fear when you heard Dream shout, still not used to it after years.

After finishing your classwork, you started cooking dinner. Soup was the vibe for the evening, and you had found a wonderful chicken and dumplings recipe a while ago that you wanted to try. You did have to go to the store for some of the ingredients, but luckily it only took you an hour. You can back and he was still streaming. It took about another hour for dinner to be done. You let it cool and prepared yourself a bowl. You set your laptop up and started watching Dream's stream. Hearing his voice made you miss him, so you pulled out your phone.

Going to the two of y'alls messages, you started making him a voice message.

"Hey baby, I made dinner, so don't play so long it gets cold. I love you! Kick the enderdragon's ass baby! Mwah."

You continued watching him stream, and he took a pause for a minute, his screen not moving from the create a new world screen and his mic muted. A couple seconds later you got spammed with every heart offered in the emoji index times what felt like a thousand.

He continued being quiet for a couple seconds, although he did unmute and continue playing, answering George's and Sapnap's questions of where he went with, "I had to take a message."

You're jealous, you shouldn't be I want you obsessively But I know how complicated it can get When you're not in front of me I know insecurities get in your head

Chat sometimes upset you. Sure, you got Dream, all of him, but sometimes the comments made by some of the more obsessives fans were a bit to much.

'With the way he killed those mobs you know he's got good fingers'

'His voice is hot so he must be'

'Heyo dream baby lemme see them feet'

Okay the last one was more weird, and actually turned out to be a joke from Quackity but anyway moving on.

He was your guy, and he promised himself to you, but sometimes he seemed to have a genuine connection with some of the sweeter and not gross ones. It made you scared that someone, one day, will swoop him off his feet with a comment and he’d leave you for them. 

But I'm not gonna interrupt if you need to talk about it Roll my eyes, get offended by the way you doubt it You know you're mine, you just forget sometimes So promise me you won’t And you know I'll remind you when you think I don't

The stream ended a little under an hour later. Dream left his recording room, grabbed a bowl of soup, and found you in the living room, lost in thought. He plopped down right next to you. 

“Talk to me baby.”

“About what?”

“Anything and everything.”

“Okay.” You’re quiet for a bit, despite his offering of listening. He knew you were gonna take him up on the offer, you just needed a bit of time, so he was going to wait patiently. He finished his soup quickly, he was much hungrier than he thought. He put the bowl on the coffee table and before he was all the way leaned back on the couch, you were leaning against him. His arms wrapped around you, your head was tucked in between his head and shoulder, and a blanket covered the both of you. You looked towards the blank tv screen but felt his eyes on you.

“I love you a lot. And I know you love me too, but I’m afraid I’m not enough. You have so many options, especially with your popularity online. I don’t know what I’d do if you left me, whether it be for someone else or just because you’re tired of me.” Dream waits for you to stop entirely, with you breathing heavily.

“Well, you’re right about one thing. I do love you, a lot. The rest of it is wrong and I’ll spend the rest of time telling you so.” Dream says, pressing several kisses against your forehead. 

“Yeah I know it’s stupid to feel this way, but my anxiety gets the best of me. It’s stupid, I’m stupid.”

“First of all, you’re not stupid. Second, hey stupid, I love you.”

Nothing's wrong, I just get in my head too Can you reassure me you, you're still in it? I just wish you could lean in and kiss me

As much as Dream loved you and reassured you, sometimes he would get caught up in his thoughts too. The life of a streamer/youtuber, especially one with as much fame and subscribers as him, was rough. The constant need to feed his fans with entertainment and content, and the need for the content to satisfy his fans was stressful. He hates to admit it, but he some days he spent to much time working and not enough with you. He thinks you would be so much happier with someone without a tight schedule and without a large, intense fanbase. Any random person on the street would be better for you than him, he thinks. 

When he gets into this headspace, the only thing that grounds him is your lips on his. When you kiss him, the clouds go away and all he can see is your eyes, as bright as the sun, and your smile, which can tempt even the purest. 

Say nothing's wrong, tell me to settle down You do it better than I've ever known how Won't pull some tricks for attention But could I get a little now?

Now, everyone knows that Dream likes some attention. He especially likes attention from you. Good thing is you also like attention, especially from him. The not so good thing is both of y’all get distracted so bad, it’s almost too funny.

He tends to get your attention by tickling you, whether it be in the comfort of your home or in public. One day, when you guys were walking through town, you stopped at a flower booth and got to talking with the friendly and flirty florist gentleman. It had been a couple minutes, and Dream was really needing some love, but you continued chatting with the florist who was definitely going to ask for your number but you genuinely thought he was just being nice. Dream crept up behind you and placed his hands on your side. You froze for a moment and looked at him, confused. The smirk that crossed his face barely gave you a second to prepare as he tickled your sides. Your laughter filled the street as you turned around as he tickled you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, which got him to stop ticking you, and gave him a kiss. The two of you continued on your way, attached at the hip.

And one day, when you wanted his attention, it was after he was done recording a manhunt with his friends. The actual video had been done for a bit, but they were just fucking around in the minecraft world and talking to each other. You had had a not so nice day, and wanted the crushing weight of your boyfriend on top of you. You crept into his recording room and came to stand right behind his chair. Based on the conversation you could tell he wasn’t recording anymore, so you knew it was safe. Your hands started in his hair, trailed down to his face, and slid down his body till your arms were wrapped around him snuggly. Your head was placed on top of his. 

“What are you doing?” he asked, and received no response. Instead, you began aggressively shaking him and the chair, turning it this way and that, making him slightly dizzy. His laughter filled the room, and he quickly ended the call. The two of you spent the next 12 hours cuddled in bed, leaving only for the necessities. 

You're jealous, you shouldn't be I want you obsessively But I know how complicated it can get When you're not in front of me I know insecurities get in your head

Dream got jealous as well sometimes. You were beautiful and a lot of the time attracted the attention of random passerbyers. Those people, who you don’t even know, who lived normal lives where they didn’t have to spend every second worried that their face will be revealed to the public and suddenly all their fans from around the world will know what they look like or the general area in which they live, who don’t have to obey algorithms and bend to the will of the masses to make sure they get paid enough to live, who could give you a normal and safe life. Every time one looked at you with some attraction, he pulled you a bit closer and kissed you a bit harder. 

But I'm not gonna interrupt if you need to talk about it Roll my eyes or get offended by the way you doubt it You know you're mine, you just forget sometimes So promise me you won’t And you know I'll remind you when you think I don't

Sometimes, Dream needed to rant. A long, hard, intense, rant. Sometimes it was about how someone accused him of cheating his speedruns. Sometimes it was about how someone said something nasty to him or one of his friends. Sometimes it was about a comment someone made about him or you that got on his nerves. When he needed to talk, you sat there and you listened. You did whatever he needed to get better, whether it was just listen or talk to find solutions. You did it because you know he would do the same for you. And afterwards, a cuddle session was a must. 

How could you forget? I told you seventeen times before 7 AM I love you How could you forget? I told you seventeen times

The morning after rough days were one of the bests. Arms tangled together, legs tangled together, everything tangled together, no one able to tell where one started and the other ended. Lazy kisses pressed to faces, hands, necks, any part of skin the lips could touch. One particular morning you woke up earlier than he did. A quick kiss against his cheek woke him up, and he gave you the most love filled smile any man could do.

“Hey stupid,” you said, “I love you.”

[stargirlwnchstr]

I have a visual to share with y'all. Say welcome to my long ass 'The Foxes + tiktok' headcanon

@ nickythefox_es (part 1???)

Basically Nicky gets tiktok but all of the foxes show up eventually and just use his profile.

• Most of the videos are with nicky and allison, also matt and dan and occasionally neil.

• Allison and nicky learn so many dances.

• Their duet of make his pockets hurt with Mariah and Zane from the vlog squad is the first one to go v i r a l.

• Yeah most of their followers know them but some and a lot of the comments are non exy fans that just watch them because they're cool

• So many of the "what is exy" "stickball game??" "dont even bother explaining to me what is the sport they play I dont care I'm just here for neil." And related comments get a liked from creator (andrew told nicky to like them)

•The "Oh my god she's coming." "I'm so afraid of her." Audio are the twinyards and nicky shows up, he had to bribe them to be a part of that one.

• They post another version but it's Kevin that enters and Allison and Nicky talking

• So many comments thirsting over them and calling matt and dan parents

• "the real bisexual struggle is simping for matt and dan in the same tiktok." -> liked from creator nickythefox_es commented/replied: ASDGFKSSDWADKWB

• Someone makes a 'put a finger down: Neil Josten edition' and nicky drags him to do it. They both smile as they listen to the prompts and Neil obviously puts all his fingers down but they're like "put a finger down if you clapbacked/if you bad mouthed someone (bonus points if it was on national tv)" "put a finger down if you're under 6 feet" "put a finger down if you love exy" and the last one just says "put a finger down if andrew minyard." Neil does and smiles at someone off camera. Needless to say it goes viral as well. A few weeks after nicky gets verified.

• Allison becomes friends with thenavarose and wisdom sorry I dont make the rules (they're fashion tiktokers)

• They make a series of rating each of the foxes throughout the day, including one of Wymack.

• They do receive bad comments, from bitter ravens fans or just recalling their pasts and nicky sits down and makes a video telling everyone about how they do this videos for fun they dont need hate and negative comments on their videos and all that

• Then another one posted minutes after, neil comes in and nicky says "okay neil you have one minute. Rant off." And neil goes on this rant like how they already hit Rock bottom a single comment is not gonna hurt them and "do you get how insignificant and meaningless your lives must be? You took the time to write and post a comment that you thought was gonna cause an impact and failed. Also thanks for the comments though it helps nicky stay on the algorithm." NICKY SCREECHES AND THE VIDEO ENDS WITH THEM SMILING

• Allison vlogs neil and her going shopping or thrifting also cutting Neil's hair

• *neil walks into the room wearing his orange bandana* *camera moves and zooms on Andrew's face* he doesnt lip sync but the song sings "oh noo I think I'm catching feelings" andrew tells him to delete it "but it already has thousands of likes andrew"

• They post some of their work out routines per request

• One of them is the fast and "I'm spinning like a ballerina" chill of neil just running on the treadmill and doing sprints and squats and leg stuff while it cuts to allison doing a bit of everything but looking like a queen on a matching set.

• A fun one that goes viral for "vine energy" is: it's very quiet on the court and Kevin, very in the zone, throws the ball to the goal, which Andre's catches easily and almost without moving. The camera goes back to kevin as he screeches and let's himself fall on the ground. Neil is standing beside him shaking his head and looking at the goal with a smile on his face.

• They try to teach neil the dances but while filming one of them he just leaves. They post it either way.

• They're in the bus, nicky is on selfie mode and says "it is game day my dudes" he turns and shows the whole bus S C R E A M S, in the corner Wymack is covering his face.

• The iconic "they say drunk thoughts are sober words" or something like that and it cuts to a series of videos of the foxes drunk af. Example: Nicky grabbing Allison's face and saying 'Remember. Bread. Head. Leave.' And allison nodding.

• Nicky films kevin standing up and put the "do you ever wonder what is going on inside their head?" And it cuts to pictures of racquets and exy and Jeremy Knox and one that says history stuff.

• Another one that goes viral is kevin very seriously and p e r f o r m i n g, rapping Jefferson's side of the cabinet battle #1 from Hamilton then towards the end andrew stands up in front of him and with his iconic bored expression he starts rapping Hamilton's part. Behind the camera there's a soft "...oh my gOD" and kevin is shocked eyes widen open and then the camera zooms on Neil who's mouth is open in shock but GRINNING and ~impressed~

• Dan and matt do The challenge, you know the one that like has to flip them over and all that and they ace it, nicky points the camera to where andrew and neil are stating and Andrew says no.

• A few minutes later another video of the challenge is posted only this time is matt and neil.

• Nicky and allison are in full gear filming a dance video (maybe savage or captain hook) on the court and someone films them filming that and then Wymack looking at them SO disappointed cut to Wymack with nicky's phone, having confiscated it and nicky besides him "coach, it's cardio!"

• Hours spent trying trick shots

• Foxes: "get back! Move!" Ravens: "Let me in! I be the I g g y!" Trojans: "Oh my God do no let her in" Foxes: "I am trying!"

• Nicky lying down: "okay but someone needs to tell me how old is the shirtless pottery guy. I can't be part of another controversy. It's for science c'mon. *debby Ryan's*"

• Someone comments "he's eighteen. Simp away, nicky." And he makes a video with his feet swinging and smiling. Aaron gets on the frame and says "we are deeply in need of some bowls." The caption: hi @ papapots

• They are verified so obviously he gains a couple of thousands followers and he duets smiling and with a package in his arms. Text: thanks for the support (and hi new followers from sport side of tiktok hope you enjoy my pots) caption: hi @ nickthefox_es I got you aaron.

• After the package comes they duet it with nicky screaming and showing off the goods and then he moves stop show andrew eating ice cream out of one of them. Caption: AJSNEPWLDKSS THANK YOU DAX

• Allison and nicky do the "I love you!" "No you dont topper! You love the idea of me. You love being seen with me but you dont love me." But nicky is Sarah and allison is topper. Next day the obx ig page reposted it "we stan the psu foxes pogues for life." And chase stokes posts it on Twitter saying "yoo the palmetto foxes watch??? my show???" Nicky takes a screenshot and on green screen he says "hi chase!! We do! The whole team binged it. Currently we've been debating who of us is going to dress up as pogues for Halloween." A lot of voices start arguing and as nicky is gonna enter the debate the video cuts.

• Allison does the facetime *deep male voice says hey* prank on them. Neil doesnt react. Nicky doesnt look up from his phone but does the finger thing and says "get that d, allison!" Dan and renee look at each other and then at allison and she bursts out laughing.

• aaron studying to be a doctor: *two plus two is four etc sound* andrew (eating pretzels from the bag while watching a game show lying down in a bean bag) and his eiditic memory [basically not needing to study]: *three is a magic number sound*

• Nicky runs through the court and enters the lounge beside the photo wall there's a poster he shows the camera as the sounds says it "alive ahaha fuck"

• Somehow they convince all of them to show up and do the wipe it down trend that ends up with wymack throwing the towel at the mirror.

• Comment: so how many members of the team listen to girl in red or sweater weather? Nicky stands there with the color filter: 👁👄👁👉👈 caption: yes❤

• He gets neil to duet to the whole "british people be like". "Neil I'm not british." "Part of you is so just read the tweets." He does and the comments are all thirst and simping

• Comment: raise your hand if you've been victimized by neil josten. Where my fellow Simps at? (The comment gets hundreds of thousands of likes) they make a video, everyone on the team except aaron who walks out raises their hand as the sound says "welcome to simp nation" kevin rolls his eyes but raises his, says something that nicky captions "i simp over his exy skills". andrew doesn't at first, but next to him neil whispers something and after andrew says yes, neil grabs Andrew's forearm and raises it. Andrew looks away and neil smiles.

• Nicky lying down: okay but what if Jean moreau traded places with the french guy from here you know who, david.

• Comment "ugh your mind nicky" reply video: right? Big brain, many thoughts, head full all the time. But like actually the idea of david playing exy and Jean hanging out with ducks and making viral tiktoks just-

• Comment "i feel you and @ austincantdrive would make the best chaotic duo" reply: we would be too powerful together. Austin replies too: agree.

• Allison makes a sports jersey/comfy wear but make it fashion and she styles herself. Everyone on the comments d i e s for her.

• Comment "okay but what about the boys. help allison." She makes a video too with matt and nicky and at the end neil wears an orange crop top and the internet b r e a k s

• Comment "allison do you listen to girl in red?" video reply: her winking at the camera and lip syncing as sweater weather plays. The comments a lot of them liked by creator: a win for the girls (and the boys)

• Upperclassmen Back in 2003: okay but hey do we always have to be involved? Can we do normal stuff that normal people do, like, go for brunch? Us (aaron, andrew, kevin and me): what the fuck is brunch?

• Of course they do the mr blue sky trend. Nicky: drunkenly goes to flirt with a guy. Aaron: drunkenly follows to get away from kevin. Kevin: drunk on pure vodka reminds us we have practice in the morning.

• Or another one all of them. Neil: ready to insult a reporter. Dan: tries not to laugh on camera. Matt: gets ready to hug him afterwards Allison and Nicky: Filming everything. Wymack: the only one trying to stop it from happening and failing.

• Dan and matt duet their reactions to every video edit of them, smiling and saying "your parents love you guys!".

• Comment "literally what is wrong with the ravens/ravens fans?The foxes are such a nice group of people and they're doing great in the sport y'all worship just shut up you cult-y athletic hype house." video reply: "ladies and gentlemen. The volume inside of this bus is A S T R O N O M I C A L."

• comment video reply: okay so we're not gonna talk about nicky at the gym?? Bc C A K E. nicky lip syncing "I'm glad you brung it up because I've been dying to talk about this for a fucking hot minute. First of all-"

• Colin uses one of Neil's or Andrew's interviews replies as one of his sounds and nicky fanboys a lot

• Allison and nicky do the Kardashian sound compilation.

• Nicky with a picture of Erik on green screen: "hi I just wanna say if you look anything like this please contact me. Thank you." Caption: miss u baby. And Erik watches his tiktoks and he facetimes him immediately. Nicky takes a screenshot and duets his own video crying with the screenshot caption: SKALSBSKAJSL Erik comments: stop making tiktoks and answer the phone, hemmick. Nicky replies: yessir everyone below comments keyboard smashes and you got a good one. Goals. Lmao kids that's what we call bottom panic. We stan one healthy long distance relationship and after that a bunch of long distance relationship questions that he makes another video on.

• A video of Katelyn and neil chatting and it pans to the twins watching them with the *when worlds collide sound*

• He reposts a snippet of one of his interviews post game where he grabs the mic from the reporter and nicky: can I say something? Reporter: sure, go ahead. Nicky: thank you. *looks straight into the camera* all the birds died in 1986 due to Reagan killing them and replacing them with spies that are now watching us. The birds work for the bourgeoisie. Thank you." And leaves. IT GOES VIRAL INSTANTLY.

• Comment "is everyone else gonna forget that tiktok where he said he was already part of a controversy? We stan a problematic icon?" Video reply: guys I might have been part of a whole Twitter beef thing against my little hoodie and Bruce hallway but c'mon, like, c'mon you can't blame me.

• Comment "for neil: does the carpet match the drapes 👅😍?" Video reply: neil on selfie mode. "Allison gave me her phone, told me to answer this and ran away so umm." He reads the box on the screen and frowns he walks and stands next to the window, where Andrew is sitting down and is barely seen on frame. "uhmm, the internet is confusing. Our carpet is like this" he turns the phone and shows the floor (grayish carpet) and then back at him "but we don't have drapes so, technically they don't match, I dont know." Andrew's head goes up and simply says "Neil." Neil turns "what?" And the video ends.

• of course nicky and allison do the WAP dance, on the court, when they should be running drills.

[murder-popsicle]

taliaromanova​:

it all made sense, especially to the bluntly pragmatic part of the black widow’s mind. choosing between a known-to-be-unstable super soldier and an emotionless and efficient computer algorithm to do one’s dirty work was hardly a choice at all. hydra would get the last fiery gasp of brutality from their century shaper and then put her down like a rabid dog. all in a day’s work.

the intimacy of the gesture caused her mind to short-circuit briefly. natasha blinked, fully intoxicated off smallest taste of honey-sweet contact.

    “helped is perhaps a strong word, i was unconscious at the time,” she shrugged. the comment wasn’t an attempt to downplay her involvement, but it was a story she’s told a lot already and bucky had the bullet points. “i wouldn’t be surprised if they did bring him back. zola’s brain became a computer; stranger things.”  her gaze drifts up to those panes of light.       “you’re welcome. i can’t pretend like it was all altruism, most of it was selfishness. i didn’t want to lose you again,” she slipped her fingers into jane’s. “you’d do the same for me.”

Seeing the way Natasha had reacted to her light touch, Jane reached out and took her lover’s hand in her own, twining their fingers together, metal and flesh side by side. “I’d do the same for you,” she agreed. “But selfishness or not, thank you anyway.”

She blinked a few times, eyes still fixed on the ceiling, and, hating herself for it a little, changed the topic. “Not to interrupt the romance,” she said soberly, “but can you tell me everything you know about Zola? He put his brain in a computer, you said?”

That tallied horribly with things Jane had seen on HYDRA bunker screens in her travels -- glimpses out of the corner of her eye of a low-resolution, green face with familiar glasses. She’d thought at first that she was imagining it, thought at first that it was paranoia, or her still-fractured mind playing tricks on her. But if Natasha was right and Zola had uploaded his own brain into a digital format, then Jane was pretty certain that he was loose on the web, and watching her.

[tonystarktogo]

Could I pretty pretty please get some more on the time travel crack au? Maybe when it gets out that Steve, Bruce, andThor are technically from the future?

As much as I’d love to jump to that part, I think it’s funnier necessary to cover a few other tidbits first. For example:

Tony misses whatever discussion follows Thor’s -- hah, got it right in one, he hasn’t lost his touch completely yet -- arrival before the god carries his brother off towards a containment cell with the sort of cheer that causes Tony to carefully keep at least two people between himself and Thor, lest the asshole tries to hug him again.

Not that it can be that big a loss considering they all -- sans Loki -- end up back in the command center of the helicarrier, where Fury glares balefully at the most recent invader of his precious aircraft that clearly isn’t meant to stand in the way of gods.

A glare Thor aggressively doesn’t notice. Likely because he’s too busy partaking in the on-going discussion on what to do next.

And by ‘what to do next’ Tony doesn’t mean the expected we-were-invaded-by-a-mindcontrolled-alien-nutbag-and-there’s-probably-more-out-there-seems-like-the-kind-of-oh-shit-situation-we-should-plan-for. No. That would be reasonable and expected and Tony’s spent all of three hours in the company of the esteemed Captain America and already he can tell you that Rogers is none of that.

[Which, not cool, Capsicle. Dazzling and befuddling people with crazily brilliant ideas is his job.]

[continues under the cut]

So far, Tony’s been paying attention for ten minutes. In that time, Rogers and Thor have gotten into an argument over how to handle Loki -- which holy shit, that went from a calm, rational discussion to a battle to the death between two superhumans on a sugar high in zero point four seconds -- that Tony is so not gonna touch. [Nope. Let some other fool [i.e. Rogers] throw himself head-first into norse god family drama, Tony’s own feelings concerning his family are complicated enough.] That conversation devolved into a not-openly-fighting-while-totally-fighting stand-off between Rogers and Banner over a way too bitter comment from the latter [something about ‘you’d know all about choosing one brother over the other, wouldn’t you’ which what?], which in turn gets derailed by Banner needling Thor about the merits of beheading over stabbing.

Romanoff had the good sense to disappear -- probably to interrogate Loki while his apparently protective big brother is distracted, now that Tony thinks about it. 

Unfortunately that still leaves Tony stuck here, having to play the role of the mature adult because no one else fucking will. Tony hates being responsible. It’s like being back in high school and being left to do all the work on your own in group project.

[Tony failed that project. Got a straight up zero on purpose because spite is a wonderful motivator. Which, now that Tony thinks about it, doesn’t say anything promising about the current situation.]

Tony leans even further back in his seat, only balancing on the backlegs of the chair, to give Fury a very sharp, very judgemental look.

These are the people you’re betting Earth’s survival on, that look says.

Fury’s already pissed off expression darkens further, which brightens Tony mood substantially. That one of the suit’s sensors flashes green twice in quick succession less than a minute later really just makes for a delicious cherry on the top. Or more precisely a good excuse to ditch this trainwreck of a match-making attempt.

“Whoops,” Tony says, clearly audible but not too loud to draw real attention from the three [still arguing-while-pretending-not-to] stooges on the other end of the room. “Looks like I gotta take this call.”

He jiggles his fingers at Fury. The guy rolls his eyes -- probably jealous that he doesn’t have an excuse himself, that bitch face doesn’t fool Tony -- but no one tries to stop him.

“Alright, J, what do you have for me?”

*

Tony pretends not to notice the shuffling footsteps. Glances at the disturbingly normal clock on the wall that is so not up-to-date with the rest of the technology in the room, it must be an inside joke. Tony would love to meet the SHIELD agent behind it -- it can’t be easy, being the only person with a sense of humor in an entire agency.

30 minutes.

Well. That’s longer than Tony thought he’d get. JARVIS still hasn’t cracked the last layer on SHIELD’s really fucked up dirt -- and given what he’s already found, that says a lot -- but it’s only a matter of time now. Besides, Tony’s got a job to do.

“To- Stark.”

“Rogers.”

Tony doesn’t turn. Neither does he stop typing.

“What are you doing?”

Tony scoffs. He’s not in the mood to pander to inferior minds -- not when they’re so fucking frustrating, don’t make any sense and worst of all make him do all the work. 

“He’s tracking the Tesseract, using the scepter as a point of reference,” Banner says after taking one look at the screen over Tony’s shoulder.

Tony raises his eyebrows, impressed despite himself. Banner’s credentials clearly don’t do him justice -- and they were pretty damn good to begin with.

“Huh,” says Rogers.

Thanks for playing. Now buckle down and make yourself useful or fuck off, Tony wants to snipe but doesn’t get the chance to because the gods -- this god at least -- just aren’t on his side.

“Even without my brother’s help, a weapon of the tesseract’s might should not be underestimated,” Thor speaks up. “Should we not make haste and collect it?”

"Great idea.” Tony’s voice is dryer than the sand dune he crash-landed in back during his fun little trip to Afghanistan. “If only I’d thought of that instead of inventing fifteen new algorithms to try and get a read on SHIELD’s precious magic eight ball while you were busy defending your brother’s honor. Speaking of, I’m pretty sure Romanoff is a greater danger to his virtue than Captain Shockfreeze over there, so why are you still here?”

Okay, maybe poking the hornet nest that is godly family isn’t his smartest move [didn’t he just say he wasn’t gonna touch that?!] but damn if Tony isn’t curious. And also too annoyed to care about unimportant, subjective things like good manners and tact.

He sort of regrets his cavalier attitute a little when Thor sobers. At least there are no tears in sight. Tony is the last person on Earth who should be left unsupervised around crying people. It just never ends well.

“Ah.” Thor sighs heavily, stems his body against an unfortunate table that creaks dangerously. "I’m afraid I can’t afford to see my brother right now.”

It’s the way he says those words, the weight they carry more than anything that tells Tony he needs to drop this issue right now. Talk about one huge trigger button.

Must be inconvenient to have siblings. Tony totally can’t relate.

“Well, in that case, unless you have a magic trick with which you can pull the Tesseract’s position out of your sleeve, how about you sit as far away from these delicate instruments as possible and don’t touch anything while I work my magic, hm?”

Tony doesn’t let his gaze linger on the crushed edge of the table. Thor hasn’t even seemed to notice. He’s too busy lighting up at Tony’s snappish response. Which is surprising. Tony’s aware he’s a bit of an asshole right now. In his defence, he’s an asshole most of the time.

Rogers leaps across the room -- almost crashing into the previously mentioned delicate sensors as he does so -- to slap his palm over Thor’s mouth.

Tony stares. [How quickly can you develop a new habit again? Because this starts to feel like a new habit.]

“That sounds like a great plan!” Rogers beams at him, so wide and fake it must be physically painful for the epitome of all that is good and holy. At least Tony hopes it is. The supersoldier his father worshipped is still clinging to their resident god of thunder’s face.

It’s.

Tony resolutely turns his back on both of them because their madness doesn’t seem to come with a refund-ticket and if Tony doesn’t finish this program, no one will.

Not even Banner -- whom Tony had been kind of hoping for. Speaking of, the man’s been awfully quiet for a while now.

“You alright there, Brucie-Bear?” Tony turns around -- a little because it’s polite to face people when you talk with them and mostly to have an excuse not to watch the ongoing doomed wrestle-match between Blonde 1 and Blonde 2. His awesome nicknaming skill doesn’t get so much as a twitch.

To be fair, Banner is so busy staring straight ahead with the most epic rendition of the World’s Most Thoughtful Expression™ Tony has seen in a while that it doesn’t seem like the man heard him. At all.

Until he suddenly speaks up.

“I think we’ve forgotten something.” Behind Tony the impromptu wrestling comes to a sudden halt.

Probably something negligible like how to focus on a mission, the sarcastic voice in the back of Tony’s mind drawls. Though it should be noted that Tony’s consciousness only comes in sarcastic or not at all. Sorry, everyone, all the other flavors are out.

Banner’s frown deepens. “Something- Something important.”

Right on cue an explosion rocks the aircraft.

*

There’s a bit more tension in this part than the previous ones. On Tony’s side it’s because he’s smart enough to pick up on Something Is Seriously Wrong, both consciously and subconsciously and also because he feels the pressure what with everyone else apparently not taking this whole thing very seriously.

[Excluding Natasha who, believe me, takes Clint’s fate very serious indeed.]

On our time travellers’ side, they experience the frustration of being unable to talk openly, surrounded by people they don’t trust, trying to play along to the script of a movie they watched like 12 years ago and never revisited. Needless to say they’re failing horrenduously.